


Simulated Hell

by Talinor



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Galra Keith, Kinda, M/M, Panic Attacks, Temporary Character Deaths, Time Loop, Torture, in a lot of different ways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-13 05:52:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9109480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talinor/pseuds/Talinor
Summary: He's deceiving you.The Voice hissed in his ear, cutting off his train of thought.You know that. Why not strike him down before he has the chance to hurt you?"...Keith?" He heard Lance say. The concern in his voice made his heart ache. "You okay?""Yeah," he nodded. "Just... spaced out for a sec. No pun intended."You are a fool.Shut up and let me enjoy this,Keith thought.





	1. Keith has a Bad Time

**Author's Note:**

> this started as a way to break my writer's block and turned into this whoops  
> Keith my son I am so sorry  
> Most of the deaths aren't detailed, except for the first three that includes impaling and strangulation  
> I put some tildes before and after the strangulation part, so you can skip that if you want  
> And if you want mood music for this chapter, listen to I Saw a Deer Today from the portal 2 soundtrack  
> Enjoy!

Keith awoke to see he wasn't himself.

His features were mostly the same, but they were wrong. The fluffy ears sticking out of his hair were wrong. The pure yellow eyes staring back at him widened in shock were wrong. His skin wasn't meant to be purple. His nails weren't supposed to be this sharp. He couldn't be a Galra. There was no way he was a Galra.

...Right?

A knock against his bedroom door nearly made him jump.

"Keith?" Shiro's voice sounded from the other side. It was laced with concern. One of his ears involuntarily twitched, his entire body tensing in unnecessary anxiety. He didn't understand why. Shiro was one of his best friends, why would he be afraid of him? "Are you doing okay? You've almost been in there for an entire day."

"Yeah," Keith managed to croak out. "I'm just-"

"Wait a minute," Shiro interrupted. His tone made Keith's ears flatten. Why did he sound so... dangerous? He wanted to blame it on his frazzled nerves, but they had a point. Why did Shiro sound suspicious of him? "Who are you? Why are you in here?"

"It's me, Shiro," he said, cautiously moving towards the door. "Why-"

The door slid open, showing Shiro in his Paladin armor. The Black Paladin's eyes flickered from and focused on something behind him on the other wall. They widened in horror. Keith followed his gaze to find the cause.

His own body was slumped against the wall, a dark stain on his left side and visible scratches along his face and tears in his shirt. His own hands suddenly felt very sticky. He knew what he was probably going to see on them.

Yet just to be sure, he looked anyway. Like an idiot, he looked anyway.

He was met with the sight he expected- claws with dark crimson laced under it. The color that suited him so well, the color he'd grown to really identify with over the past couple of months, now painted his hands like it was a macabre piece of art. His own blood- but not really his, he had to remind himself- was on his now-purple hands.

Millions of questions bounced around in his mind, pinging off each other and the walls incessantly. How was this possible? Despite his new features, he still looked like himself, so why didn't Shiro recognize him? Why was there a body that looked just like him? How did it get there? How was any of this happening? There was so much new information to process, and yet he couldn't understand how any of this was possible.

"You monster," he heard Shiro's seething tone behind him, dripping with more hatred than he ever thought someone like Shiro could be capable of. Being the target of it made his blood boil, made him want to shrink down until he was calm again. He wanted to explain, tell Shiro he had no idea how this happened, or why, but before he could say anything--

Pain bloomed straight through his abdomen before he could attempt to ask any of the questions bugging him. It was agonizing, searing, white-hot pain that left his vision blooming vividly for a moment before the world around him darkened slowly. The taste of copper was on his tongue. It took him a moment for the realization of what happened to cut through the thickening fog in his mind.

Shiro removed his prosthetic arm from where it had impaled him, expression hard and emotionless as he watched his best friend fall weakly to the cold and hard floor. The cold seemed to seep into him, replacing the warmth quicker than he'd like. His fingers felt only pins and needles when he reached out for the Black Paladin. He just wanted to understand. When he tried to speak, all that came out was a garbled and choked plea.

"Tak-kashi--"

One he wasn't even able to finish before everything went dark. The last feeling he registered was his hand limply falling to the floor.

And then, to his confusion, he woke up.

This time, he was on his bed fully dressed in his Paladin armor. The pain that consumed him was completely gone now. He was fine, he was breathing, and there was no corpse in the corner or stickiness on his hands.

Without really thinking about it, he went to check anyway.

Thankfully, his hands were clean. He slipped one of the gloves off just to check to see if that had changed too. He wasn't completely sure what had happened, but if his skin was back to normal, he could dismiss it as a nightmare. A horrifically vivid nightmare, but still a nightmare. Unreal and unable to hurt him anymore.

But, to his horror, his skin was the same purple it had been before.

How could that be possible? He shouldn't still look like a Galra. He'd woken up. He shouldn't look like this anymore, unless...

 _Unless,_ an unfamiliar voice in his mind finished for him and made him jump. It grated on his nerves, sent a chill snaking down his spine. There was no one around him, yet it felt like the voice was coming from right behind him. A sinister whisper in his ear. _You've always been like this, and now it's decided to show what you really are. A Galra. One of the enemy._

One of--

"No," he said, looking up at the ceiling. He didn't know what the hell was going on, but he knows who he is. And what he definitely is not. "I'm not. I'm not like one of them."

A series of rapt knocks at his door caught his attention. "Keith?" Shiro's voice piped up. "You doing okay?"

The voice simply chuckled.

_Let's see if he thinks otherwise, child._

Screw what that stupidly smug voice in his head said. He must've woken up from that weird nightmare. Everything was almost normal. Everything was almost fine.

And yet there was a feeling tingling up his spine. It made him tighten his shoulders subconsciously, like he was in battle. Or preparing himself for one pretty soon. Like he'd have to defend himself.

But that was ridiculous. The nightmare was over. And while this one had been more vivid than usual, it still wasn't real. He was back in the real world now. He was safe for the time being. It was easy to convince himself that the strange voice was just something from his half-conscious mind. 

So he got off of the bed, straightening up his armor. He must've fallen asleep in it again. Sometimes he did that, too sapped of energy after a hard battle to care. This was the first time he'd managed to make it back onto his bed before he passed out, though. Usually he woke up on the floor of his room or in one of the hallways.

He quickly combed his gloved fingers through his messy hair, mainly to keep it out of the way. Other than that, he was ready for the day. So he opened the door to face Shiro in his own armor.

He barely opened his mouth before he felt the familiar sensation from his nightmare- agonizing pain coursing through his body. It felt like the energy from Shiro's prosthetic was burning him from the inside out. His mind hyperfocused on the hellish sensation, making it incredibly hard to focus on trivial things like asking why or breathing beyond shallow gasps.

The last thing he saw was Shiro's hardened, unemotional face. Those dark eyes piercing into him almost as much as his hand was. And then the pain faded, his vision ebbing along with it.

Once again, he woke up in his bed. This time he had his regular outfit on, minus the leather crop jacket he could see hanging on the wall opposite him.

Well, that had been... strange. Usually he didn't wake up in his nightmares to experience almost the same thing again. But until recently, he usually didn't wake up in a 10,000+ year old spaceship as a pilot to a sentient robot lion. So he simply shrugged it off as what it was- a nightmare- and as what it was not- real.

But he still stiffened at the array of knocks at his door.

Which was ridiculous of him. He knew that, but he couldn't help it. But it was an instinct, a kick after the doctor hits your knee with a rubber hammer.

"Calm down," he said to himself. "Everything's okay. You're fine." He took a deep breath and let the tension building in his shoulderblades drop. He was safe. He didn't need to prepare for a fight. It was just someone at the door, probably to tell him that breakfast was in a few minutes. Just another regular day.

Despite that reasoning, he didn't hurry to get to the door.

It felt like a stone dropped down his stomach when the door slid open to reveal the man he was secretly dreading to see- Shiro. This time in his regular clothes as well, but still wearing that same cold and unemotional expression from his nightmares. It made his skin crawl and his instincts involuntarily flare up again.

 _Run, you idiot!_ It felt like every nerve in his body was screaming at him. _Get away! Move! Do something, at least!_ When he tried to obey, he found something very important out.

He couldn't move his legs.

Every other part of him moved fine, but he couldn't even feel his legs. It was like they suddenly had become pieces of lead attached to the floor, rooting him to the spot. He tried to move them, to wrench them free of whatever overcame them. But nothing worked.

Nothing worked, and Shiro just stood there. Watching him struggle without a trace of concern. Just like before.

 _~~~~_

And then, he felt a new sensation. One that hadn't been in the first two nightmares. Something new thrown into the mixture of whatever the hell was happening to him.

In a motion so quick that you'd miss it if you blinked, the prosthetic hand grabbed Keith by the throat. He was lifted up into the air like a ragdoll; a ragdoll clutching desperately at the relentless grip cutting off his air supply. It was getting harder and harder to get any oxygen through his desperate, shallow gasps.

He wouldn't last much longer. He knew that, but like a bleeding animal caught in a trap, he struggled desperately. Maybe if he was lucky, he could somehow wrench himself free. Maybe he would be able to run out and get the others. Maybe they could find out what was going on, what was wrong, and how to take care of it.

Lady Luck was not that kind to him.

Spots danced in his vision. His lungs burned from the lack of oxygen. His mind raced to think of what to do, how to get out of the situation he was thrown into. But it was getting hard to think through the fog-like haze creeping into his head, thoughts becoming garbled and difficult to translate.

He was going to die. Again.

He never would've imagined he'd ever think those two things together. But there it was. Third time's the charm and all that.

With another desperate gasp, he spoke one simple word. It was the only thing he could think to say in a situation like this, his vision tinting black at the edges.

"Why?"

The neutral mask Shiro had been keeping up as he calmly kept strangling his best friend finally broke. His eyes glinted in a manic glee that the real Shiro would never have, especially not pointed at him. He smiled, teeth sharper than Keith remembered them ever being.

"Because," he said, in a voice that definitely wasn't his. It sounded exactly like the voice from his earlier nightmare, and hearing it again made his blood feel like ice. "You need to learn your place, child."

The hand tightened, pushing harder against the forming bruises and fully cutting him off from the sliver of oxygen that had kept him conscious so far. It wouldn't be long until his brain finally shut down from the sudden withdrawal.

_~~~~_

Before his mind finally gave up trying, he heard the voice say something else.

"You will break eventually. It's only a matter of time."

Everything went black.

By the fourth death at Shiro's hands, Keith had figured a few basic things out about his weird situation.

Number one- he didn't know how or why, but he knew there was no way this could be real. He didn't know what kind of alternate reality he was in, but it wasn't his.

Number two- apparently Shiro wasn't the only one who could kill him for no reason. Deaths number 5 and 6 had been from Hunk. Crushed by the Yellow Lion (that had actually been an accident, but still killed him) and shot. Death number 7 was from Pidge. They could apparently turn the power of their bayard's shocks up pretty high. At least, they could in whatever universe he was stuck in. Death number 8 had been from Coran, who wiped the floor with him in hand-to-hand combat.

In retrospect, that had not been a good idea.

Number three- it always just kept going. The vicious cycle he somehow got caught in just kept on spinning and spinning like the ones from shitty game shows that his shack's old TV always played on the few channels he had.

It was random every time. He never had the chance to get used to the sensations, so the pain never dulled. Never numbed.

When he wakes up this time, he's not sure how many times he's died. 

It's scary to think how nonchalant he's gotten about this. He knows, opening his eyes again and seeing his room in the Castle, that one of his closest (really his only, to be honest) friends is going to track him down and kill him.

He still remembers the last death he'd gone through before whichever one he's going to face soon. It still burned in his mind, phantom pain from it tingling in his skin. It was his first one at Allura's hands, and she had not been merciful.

No, she'd prolonged his pain for as long as she could. His shoulders still felt sore from when she dislocated them. She'd broken nearly every single bone in his body, his throat edged with the leftover burn of screaming his voice raw. When she was satisfied with how he lay still on the floor, whimpering despite himself, she ended his suffering.

He could have fought back. He had sharp claws and teeth. And while she has much more experience and expertise, he's beaten her a few times in hand to hand sparring sessions back in his actual reality. If it came down to it, back against the wall, he's confident he'd win a fight against Allura. He would be left in awful shape afterwards, but he'd win. 

But he didn't dare lay a hand on her. Didn't dare try to harm any of them while they hurt him mercilessly.

Because hurting them, killing them, is exactly what the Voice wanted him to do. Every time he was on the floor he could hear it whispering in his ear. Urging him to get up, fight back, defend himself.

 _Kill them_ or _kill her_ or _kill him. Kill or be killed, pup._

The Voice wanted him to strike out against his only friends, tear them apart for daring to hurt him. The Voice wanted him to hurt them like they'd already done so many different times.

But that would make him like it. Like those who wanted to break him, put him back together again, and mold him into whatever they wanted. They wanted a puppet, probably some kind of killing machine.

If Keith was powered by any one thing, it was spite.

Spite didn't stop the pain from being agonizing, but it kept him going. That was enough for him.

As per usual, an array of knocks sounded from his door. Sometimes it didn't start out this way, but it usually did. He'd get up with a sigh, open the door, and usually get killed immediately.

The voice that came from outside the door, however, made him stop in his tracks. His heart skipped a beat at hearing it again. It was the voice of a person who infuriated and infatuated him to no end. The voice of the only one who hadn't killed him once yet. A voice he'd been dreading to hear.

"Keith," he said. "Buddy? You in there?"

Lance.

Oh fuck.

He knew this would happen eventually. His luck would run out and the last thing he'd see before the cycle restarted would be those eyes staring at him with hatred. Those deep, dark blue eyes he would happily get lost in. The boy with a personality like the tide- always shifting, sometimes high sometimes low sometimes inbetween- would be like a merciless wave and sweep him under its depths to drown.

It was only a matter of time.

With heavy feet and a sinking heart, he got up out of bed. For once, he felt tired. Sleepiness weighed heavily on his shoulders. His hair was mussed up and probably sticking out at multiple ends.

When he let the door slide open, he was surprised to see Lance was... smiling at him. There was a mischievous glint in those eyes, visible even in the dimly lit room. Despite himself, he felt a slight warmth envelop him at the sight. Lance usually didn't smile directly at him.

For once, Keith decided to play along. See just how far this was going to go.

He wiped at his eyes with one hand, leaning against the doorway. "Lance?" he said with fake surprise and real tiredness. "What're you doing here?"

"Come on," Lance took hold of one of his wrists, gently pulling Keith along. It wasn't really necessary, given the fact that he'd have happily followed along anyways, but he wasn't going to object to the contact. "I wanna show you something."

"O-kay?" Keith said, following along through the dark hallway.

The Castle always felt... a little bit creepy at night/ sleeping hours. The dimly lighted hallways, the still and cool air causing a chill down the spine in more ways than one. It was a huge ship, probably built to house hundreds, but only had 7 people and some weird magic mice. It wasn't so noticeable during the daytime, with the inhabitants bustling about, but once everyone retired for the night it felt... empty. Like it was the first time the five of them stepped foot into its old halls.

Usually when he couldn't sleep, he'd roam around. Explore the depths a bit. So, as they went into another familiar hallway, he knew what this Lance was probably gonna show him.

The familiar copper-looking sign that probably said something like 'observation' in Altean next to the door proved him right. It was a hallway inbetween the training and living decks, but unlike the other halls, this one was made of glass. Or something like it anyways. It was cool to the touch and see-through, so Keith considered it glass. There were even metal bars jutting out of and lining alongside the glassy walls, about as thick as his fist.

On many occasions, he'd sit on them and watch the stars around him. Make up constellations and such while his sore muscles got a bit of rest. A couple times, he'd woken up in the middle of the night to find his cheek pressed against the smooth surface.

So he was pretty familiar with Lance's new discovery.

"Cool, right?" Lance said, beaming at him. He was clearly excited about it, looking for Keith's reaction to what he'd found.

Why let him down?

Keith stared out at the stars shining brightly at him with wide-eyed awe, soaking in the sights of the array of colors before him like it was his first time seeing them. "Whoa," he breathed out. It wasn't hard to fake his amazement at the sight- seeing space always did take his breath away.

"You know," he continued, stepping over the metal bar so he could sit on it. "When I was a kid," he placed a hand flat against the glassy surface. "I would have killed for a view like this."

The situational irony of that statement wasn't lost on him.

But Lance simply moved to sit alongside him, the sleeve of his jacket brushing along Keith's bare arm. "Really?" He said with genuine-sounding curiosity. "Were you a space nerd or something like that as a kid?"

Keith nodded. "Yup," he told him. "Used to be obsessed with astronomy and facts about the planets, stuff like that." It didn't do him much good now, in a completely different part of space, but it still felt... familiar. Still felt more like home than most others he'd stayed in. "I don't think I really grew out of it. Still remember most of the facts."

"Oh yeah?" Lance must've moved a bit, because he felt the jacket's fabric brush against his arm again. He didn't bother to look, though. He didn't want to see the teasing expression Lance was probably giving him. "Tell me one."

Keith furrowed his brows. "What?"

"I said," Lance slid slightly closer to him, the contact between them constant now. "Tell me one of your space facts, O Great Wondernerd."

He couldn't help but laugh. This was the kind of familiarity he'd been missing ever since...

 _He's deceiving you._ The Voice hissed in his ear, cutting off his train of thought. _You know that. Why not strike him down before he has the chance to hurt you?_

"...Keith?" He heard Lance say. The concern in his voice made his heart ache. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Just... spaced out for a sec. No pun intended."

_You are a fool._

_Shut up and let me enjoy this,_ Keith thought.

"I don't know about other solar systems," Keith started after a wonderful moment of silence. "But our Sun actually emits all colors, so it's white. It only looks yellow 'cause Earth's atmosphere serves as a filter, filtering some wavelengths more than others and..." He trailed off when he saw the look on Lance's face. Brows raised high and looking at him with surprise. Keith felt heat creep up onto his face.

"Sorry," he continued quietly, rubbing at the side of his neck. "Got a bit carried away there, didn't I?"

"Nah, you're fine," Lance assured him with a smile. Keith felt a different, better kind of heat creep up onto his face. "It was kinda cute, actually."

A different heat creeped onto his skin. Something warmer, and a lot more pleasant than embarrassment. He tried to come up with something to say, but his mind drew up a blank when he saw what Lance was doing.

Lance was leaning closer, those wonderful blue eyes now half-lidded. They were pointed at him like he was looking at the most precious thing in the universe. Keith didn't know what to do. His brain was about a mile behind this moment, and it hadn't caught up yet. So he stayed stock still as the space between their faces got steadily smaller.

They were barely an inch apart when Lance stopped. He glanced down to Keith's lips hesitantly, then looked back up to his eyes. "Can I...?" He asked.

Finally, Keith's mind caught up.

"Hell yes," he breathed, and closed the little bit of distance between them.

Now, Keith isn't a religious person. Not in the slightest. But in that moment, he thanked whatever deity made this happen.

In that moment, it felt like the stars, the planets, and whatever else could align finally did.

In that moment, he soaked in the feeling of Lance's fingers intertwined with his hair. The faint smell that he could've sworn was coconut. How it felt to have Lance's lips against his; something he'd dreamed about in the middle of the night for months on end. His eyes fluttered shut, letting his other senses pilot the experience.

In that moment, he forgot the cycle he was in. He forgot the countless deaths, the pain and suffering he'd been through.

For a moment, he forgot it wasn't real.

And then that moment ended.

Keith barely noticed one of Lance's hands leaving his hair to move into the outer pocket of his own jacket. He barely noticed the faint sound of a bayard activating.

But he sure as hell noticed it when it fired, the point-blank bullet ripping through his skin with ease. Keith separated from him with a gasp at the sudden pain. And it all came rushing back. The cruelty. The pain. The inevitable death that wouldn't be too long now, cradled in Lance's arms.

How poetically ironic.

The blue bayard reverted back to its original form in a flash of light, its Paladin looking down at him with malice in his eyes. It hurt to breathe, but Keith managed to speak, voice hoarse and scratchy.

"Why?" Why go through all this trouble for the same ending? The Voice wanted to break him, but it usually didn't take this long for him to die. It had been pretty straightforward so far. So why hadn't it been this time?

Lance smiled, giving him that endearingly annoying smug look. But right now it was... different. Crueler, like he just won a fight to the death. "Let's be honest with ourselves here," he pulled Keith's body closer, thumb finding the entrance wound. It pressed in harshly, Keith's pained scream filling the empty silence of the hallway. He kept it there for a couple seconds before pulling his thumb back out. The tip was tinged with crimson.

"Why would I ever love someone like you, dropout?"

The world went black.

The words still rang in his head when he woke up again.

The cycle continued.

Shiro Allura Coran Hunk Shiro Pidge Allura Hunk Coran Pidge Shiro Hunk Allura Pidge Coran Allura Shiro Pidge Hunk Coran Shiro Pidge Coran Allura Shiro Hunk Pidge Shiro Coran Allura Shiro Pidge Shiro Hunk Coran Allura Shiro Pidge Shiro Hunk Pidge Shiro Allura Shiro Pidge Shiro Hunk Pidge Shiro Coran Allura Shiro Pidge Shiro Hunk Coran Allura Hunk Pidge Shiro Coran Allura Shiro Pidge Shiro

Round and round the cycle kept spinning. 

Keith lost track of how many different times he's died at the hands of his friends for being a Galra. He's been shot, stabbed, blown up, and tortured in ways too painful to recall. 

And yet, nothing so far has hurt him as much as Lance's turn had.

He woke up in his bed, wearing his casual clothes. He didn't even bother to check if he was a Galra this time. He already knew what he'd see. Familiar purple skin, with sharp claws and teeth.

Was being a Galra actually so bad, though? His ears easily picked up the sound of rapid footfalls heading from the hallway towards his door. His eyes got accustomed to the darkness of his room quicker.

It took some getting used to his new look, but he actually... kinda liked it now.

And then he heard a familiar voice. One that made his heart feel like it dropped suddenly to his stomach.

Lance.

"Keith?" He called, his voice getting closer and closer. "Keith!"

His door slid open, revealing Lance in his Paladin armor, gasping for air. "Oh my God," he said breathlessly. "How the hell did I even-" Then he stopped, gaze landing on Keith. The way his face lit up at seeing him made Keith's chest constrict.

"What do you want, Lance?" He asked. There was no way he was playing along this time. He'd learned his lesson.

Lance looked at him with obvious confusion, but quickly shook it off. "Listen," he said. "We don't have a lotta time, but I need you to come with me. We're getting out of here."

"Why?" He asked with more than a hint of bitterness. "So you can shoot me again? No thanks."

"Keith, what-"

"Don't act like you don't know." He wasn't buying the stupid confusion act this Lance was putting on. However genuine it looked. "I'm not falling for it again." He got up from his bed, moving over to Lance. "Don't pretend. If you're gonna kill me, then just fucking do it."

All he got in response was widened eyes, replaced quickly by a look of concern.

 _Good,_ the Voice purred. Lance jumped slightly at it, looking around the room for a source. _Trust your instincts, child. Protect yourself from the inevitable pain._

...For once, that sounded reasonable.

"Keith," Lance put a hand on his arm. "I don't know what they've done to you, but please," the hand squeezed his arm slightly. "Just... trust me, okay? Don't listen to whoever that was."

No one in the cycle had ever acknowledged the Voice before. That was the part that made him stop in his tracks.

His hard expression softened. "You..." He tried to think of something to say, something that expressed the mixing array of emotions he felt. Confusion mainly, along with most of the other emotions he usually felt in the cycle. But there was something new to the mix, something he hadn't felt in a very long time.

Hope. It was a tiny little glimmer, but it was enough.

"...Are you real?" He asked, hesitantly reaching a hand out to touch his face. Like Lance would suddenly disappear if he did.

Lance didn't flinch, didn't try to pull away when Keith's hand landed gently on his cheek. His skin was smooth to the touch and- more importantly- very real. A fact that became more obvious when Lance smiled, put a hand on his, and spoke. "I'm real as can be, mullethead. Now come on."

Yup, that was definitely Lance.

So Keith didn't protest when Lance moved his hand from the one on his face and started pulling him along by the grip on his arm. He let Lance lead the way, not mentioning anything about how Lance's hand still holding his arm wasn't really necessary.

 _When will you learn, child?_ The Voice asked. _He will hurt you in the end, just like-_

Lance put a finger to his comm. "Pidge," he said. "I got Keith, but could you do us a favor real quick?" He paused, listening to Pidge's reply.

_What are you-_

"Could you block the intercom in the simulation? There's someone talking over it and they're starting to get on my nerves."

 _Child, do_ not-- A buzzing static with garbled nonsensical words mixed in filled the air for a couple seconds. Then the signal cleared.

 _There we go._ A different voice replaced the old one. Pidge's voice. _Now, the door's coming up just ahead, so give him the gist before you go._

The door to the observation hallway was ahead, but it looked... different this time. It slid open, revealing a near-blinding white glow. Lance stopped them a few feet away from it.

"Keith," he said, tone and expression serious. "You're gonna need to go through there to get to the real world. When you do, you're gonna wake up in a hugeass Galra ship. Head to the nearest platform. We'll be there soon to pick you up, okay?"

Not really knowing what to say, Keith simply nodded.

"Good." Lance smiled, letting go of Keith's arm. He stopped right at the door, giving Keith a wink and two quick finger guns. "See ya on the flip side, carino." With that, he turned around and ran through the illuminated door.

Keith stepped closer to it, looking at it cautiously. For once, he didn't want to dive into something headfirst. Part of him couldn't help but wonder if this was part of some elaborate death in the cycle. Like he'd step through the portal... thing and immediately get incinerated or something like that.

Just to be sure, he stuck a hand into the light. It felt tingly and weird, but nothing painful. Nothing grabbed at him. He pulled his hand bank out.

It looked the same.

 _Oh my god,_ he heard Pidge speak up again. _Will you quit being a baby and just_ go?

Keith looked up at the ceiling with irritation. "Fine," he said. "I'm going, okay?" He stuck his hand in again. "You hap- whoa!" This time, he was pulled into the light, the tingling and weightlessness transferring to his entire body. Before the white surrounding him faded to darkness, he heard Pidge speak up again.

_I am now._

Keith woke up.


	2. Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Good/Canon ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoo boi did this chapter run away from me.  
> It's finally done, though!  
> This chapter only briefly mentions deaths, but it also has panic attacks, so be warned! I based it off of my own experience with anxiety attacks, so I apologize if it's not accurate!  
> Enjoy!

Keith was only awake for about .2 seconds before he plummeted to the ground. The sudden fall didn't help his stomach, which felt like it was run over by and thrown out of several cars.

For the first few moments, he focused more on not puking than anything else. It was hard, but eventually it calmed down enough. He still felt like he was going to vomit, but it wasn't as bad. When he opened his eyes, he noticed something while kneeling in the fetal position.

His skin wasn't purple.

It was covered in a yellowish translucent goo that didn't have the same harsh heat of quintessence, but had a similar glow to it. The goo was... weirdly warm, but the important thing was his skin wasn't purple. The hands clutching his sides weren't clawed. The sticky, slicked-with-goo hair was the same shade of black it used to be. His ears weren't huge and freaky anymore.

He quickly squashed down the tiny part of him that had the audacity to be disappointed.

Another thing he noticed pretty quickly- he was naked. Bare as the day he was born.

Great.

He looked around at his surroundings, Lance's words ringing in his head. It definitely looked like Galra tech, with the dark purple walls and light purple lights helping illuminate the room.

He was kneeling on a circular platform connected to a short catwalk leading to a closed door a few feet in front of him. His eyes widened when he looked to the rest of the room.

It extended as far as the eye could see on either side. It was shaped like a giant tube, constantly rotating slowly. He could see a platform like the one he was on roughly 200 feet away on either side, stationary and elevated so they wouldn't scrape against what was attached to the rotating walls.

Pods of some kind lined up along the walls. They were all very close together, only having a few inches between each other. Behind him, an empty pod was held up in the air by a claw-like machine. A hatch on the bottom was hanging open, the inner side still covered by a fine layer of the strange goo. All of the other pods were still filled with the yellow goo Keith was covered in. They gave the the room a very faint golden glow. It was hard to see what else was in there.

Hard, but not impossible.

Most of the humanoid silhouettes (some more than others) were barely visible, but still distinguishable. He could even make out the features of the ones closer to him. All unconscious, unmoving in their unknown prisons. All of them probably like him. Stuck in the cycle.

He looked down the tube at all the pods. There had to be hundreds, if not thousands of pods here. Hundreds of people taken from their homes and families to be thrust into the Galra's twisted simulation. Some of them might not even know it. The simulation had been... very realistic.

He wasn't going to dwell on that thought for too long. He needed to get out of here. 

And when he did, he was going to tell the others about this place. Maybe they'd be able to save to save the people here.

But he had to get out of here first,

So he slowly moved to his feet, careful not to slip on the goo on the floor. It took about a minute or so- probably because his legs were shaky and very weak- but he eventually managed. His stomach churned in protest away from the comfortable position. He ignored it.

He needed to get out of here, sickness be damned.

Keith limped along his way to the door, feeling the way a port-a-potty's toilet looked. Which was just a little bit longer way of saying he felt like absolute shit. But he kept trucking on, slowly but surely. A sudden pang of pain erupted in his stomach, making him clutch at his abdomen with a grimace.

For some reason the door slid open noiselessly for him when he walked toward it. It was... strangely convenient, but he wasn't gonna complain. The hallway it revealed to him had two directions- one was straight ahead to a door a couple yards away, and the other way branching off to his left. A lone Galra soldier drone stood by a terminal next to the door. Their back was turned to him, typing something into the terminal with their rifle leaning against their leg. So he considered avoiding them. Maybe the hallway would be deserted.

That idea lasted a good 6 seconds before he heard far-off footsteps getting closer from that direction. Multiple ones. Probably on patrol. Fantastic.

If he had his gear, he wouldn't be worried. He'd just use his bayard and carve a path through the drones. But right now, completely naked and without a weapon of any kind, he didn't want to take any chances. In order to get rescued, he needed to be- y'know- actually alive. Plus if the Galra taught him anything, it was that getting shot fucking hurt.

Which was obvious, yeah, but nobody felt how actually dying from a gunshot feels. Nobody but him. To his knowledge, at least.

Then again, a lot of people were still in the Galra simulation. Possibly still stuck in the cycle.

And he was gonna make sure to come back for them, but he needed to find the nearest platform first. If this place was like other Galra ships he'd been in, then the left hallway would probably just lead into more branching hallways. He didn't really feel like shambling around the mazelike halls right now. Not to mention more guards. More guards meant more guns, which meant a bigger chance of their bullets tearing through him.

So straight ahead it was.

His legs were slowly getting used to being used again, but they still felt weak. So he crept along close to the wall to his right. He kept his eyes fixed on the drone ahead of him, prepared to lunge or hide at any movement that might've been them turning around. He'd get there slower than he'd like, but he'd still get there.

Then the ship lurched violently to the right.

Pain bloomed in his sides as he collided with the unforgiving metal wall without warning. He hissed through clenched teeth at the sudden pain, biting back a couple curses. The aches in his stomach made themselves known now more than ever before.

Don't throw up, he thought. Don't throw up don't throw up don't--

Hot bile rose up his throat, leaving a burning scratchy feeling behind as it forced its way out of his mouth. He wouldn't have been able to stop it if he tried. At the least, he didn't get any on him. So that was a tiny plus.

Another little plus was the drone had also been slammed into the wall. Their rifle slid along the floor, a foot or so behind the drone still recovering. If Keith was quick enough, he could dive for it. He'd feel a bit better if he had a weapon with him.

One problem, though.

His legs apparently weren't in the mood to run or jump yet. They were barely strong enough to hold him up, quaking from the sudden movement. He felt a little lightheaded from hitting his head against the wall. Those two things combined to make a doubly terrible time for him. It only got worse when he tried moving off of the cold wall.

So he went to moving against the wall, hands flat and bracing against it for support. He was going to get there a hell of a lot slower than he wanted to, but at least he was still moving. At least he was still alive. At least he was back in the real world instead of a simulation. Or, at least, this all felt real to him.

Then again, the simulation had felt real too. He could hear in the simulation, could smell in the simulation, could touch, taste, and do nearly anything he could do in the 'real world'. How did he really know he'd left it?

He could worry over that later. When he was (hopefully) safe in the Castle.

His eyes flickered between the drone and their rifle just a few short feet in front of him. His body was taut like a coiled spring, ready to leap forward at any moment if the drone turned around. Just a few more steps...

The drone stiffened. Keith stopped, holding in the quietest breath he'd ever inhaled. His heartbeat felt like it was roaring in his ears. The quick and steady beat of it was the only thing he could hear for what felt like the universe's longest moment ever. Maybe he'd get lucky. Maybe if he didn't make any more noise, they wouldn't turn around. Maybe what or whoever loved tormenting him would actually give him a break.

Or maybe, he thought irritably as the Galra drone turned to look at him. I should just stop asking them for favors.

"Hal-" the drone wasn't able to finish what they were going to say. Keith surged forward for the gun, the goo slicking his legs helping him slide against the floor a bit. He only hoped he was pointing it in the right direction before pulling the trigger. 

A purple energy bolt shot forward, streaking toward its target. 

It tore through the drone's armor, leaving behind a smoking crater the size of a fist and the reeking smell of burnt electronics. The drone's arms fell to their sides. They dropped to their knees first, falling limply the rest of the way quickly after.

The footsteps in the other hallway suddenly stopped. As did Keith.

Then they started again. Getting closer and closer much quicker than he'd like. Once they did, Keith didn't waste any time in getting up from the floor. Using the rifle as a handheld crutch, he didn't have to depend so much on the wall for support. He started walking as quickly as he possibly could.

He had no idea what the terminal's buttons said. But he did understand what one did- the giant red handprint prompt to open the door. Without hesitation, he placed his palm flat against it. He knew it would work. He didn't really bother to think about less important stuff, like how it worked for him but not anyone else on the team. There wasn't time to.

The button hummed for a moment before beeping in confirmation. The door slid open for him smoothly, and he slipped through it hurriedly. For a moment, he allowed himself to glance back as he moved straight ahead to another door.

Three drones turned the corner into his line of vision as the door slowly closed. They ran towards him, firing their rifles at will. Most hit a wall, or the edge of the door. He avoided most of the shots headed towards him; the bolts whizzing past him by a few mere inches. From the sound of electric fizzling he could hear, one of the last shots had hit the terminal.

He thought he was in the clear, so he looked ahead again. Most of the shots that managed to make it past the tiny sliver in the door easily missed him.

And then a searing, red hot pain exploded in his shoulder. He winced, stopping to glance at the damage. 

The bullet must've grazed him, but still left quite a bit of damage. The skin at the tip of his shoulder was an angry red, burnt skin surrounded by inflamed pink. It hurt like hell- made his entire arm feel like it was full of tingly pins and needles- but he could manage for now. He'd had much worse.

Keith limped along the catwalk to the only door on the other side. His stomach wasn't queasy anymore. He didn't really have anything in his system now to throw up anyways. His hurt shoulder was beginning to feel numb. Not to mention the goo was still sticky and gross. 

When the door slid open for him, showing an open catwalk leading to yet another door on the other side, he realized something.

He had no idea where he was going.

The area above and below the catwalk was massive. He couldn't see the ceiling or the floor of it. It made him feel like an insignificant speck lost in the vastness. This ship was huge. How was he supposed to find the nearest platform? He didn't even know where he was.

Even worse, how were the others going to find him? He didn't have his armor. He couldn't sense Red nearby. He didn't even have a comm of any kind on him. What was he supposed to do? Wander around and hope he'd find the others somewhere along the way?

What other choice did he really have right now?

So he kept moving forward. There was another terminal by the door, with the same kind of handprint button on its screen. As he did before, he pressed his hand against it and waited. It beeped, and the door opened up for him.

When he saw the path leading to a circular platform at the end, he felt his heart get a little bit lighter. But there was no one there. Which on one hand meant no Galra drones trying to kill him, but on the other meant no friends to rescue him. For a moment, he considered turning back. Maybe the others found a platform closer than this one. Maybe there was another way he just didn't see.

The door behind him opened up suddenly. A group of drones stood waiting on the other side. He didn't have time to count how many there really were, but he guessed there was a dozen at the least. The one in front, presumably the leader despite looking the same as all the others, pointed to him.

"There's the prisoner!" They said. Like that fact wasn't pretty obvious already. "Remember- Zinya wants this one alive!"

Guess he was going with this platform after all.

He saw the drones fiddle with some kind of dial before he turned and ran down the metal path. The lights on their rifles changed, turning from a pinkish purple to a lighter, almost blue.

The room around him was a lot like the one he woke up in, tubelike with slowly turning walls moving constantly. There weren't any pods lining the walls this time and instead of lying horizontally, this room stood vertically. It must've been a docking bay of some kind, metal crates of differing shapes and sizes arranged about on the path and platform ahead.

Bluish purple bolts whizzed past him, some just barely missing his skin. He's pretty sure one of them burnt a bit of hair off the side of his head. Lance would probably have a field day with that, probably teasing him that his ""mullet"" looked a bit better now. If Lance and the others actually managed to get here before he got shot.

Thankfully, the crates on the platform were made of pretty strong metals. Strong enough that the shots barely affected them. Not to mention the fact that they were grouped together to make some pretty decent cover, which he intended to use to his advantage. He got behind the unintentional makeshift barricade quickly, but not before a drone managed to hit his leg.

A sudden burst of electricity laced through his body, making his muscles stiffen involuntarily. It probably only lasted a couple seconds at most, but those seconds were agonizingly long. The edges of his vision blurred. His eyelids felt heavy; his mind hazy. When he looked at his leg, he saw there wasn't any visible damage. Not even inflammation.

His brain felt sluggish. Why? Why didn't a shock that hurt as much as it did damage his skin? How was that--

It finally dawned on him.

Of course. Whoever Zinya was wanted him alive. The bolts weren't meant to kill or damage him, just knock him out. Once he was unconscious, it would be easy to drag him back to the pods. Back to the simulation. Back to the cycle.

He ran a hand through his hair, accidentally slicking his bangs back. He couldn't allow that to happen. He had to stay awake. Not just for himself, but for the others.

Keith shook his head, wiped at his eyes, hit himself on the forehead. Anything to keep him awake for as long as possible. The fog in his mind actually cleared up a bit at the pain. Good. He could actually focus on other things now.

He popped up out of cover a bit. The drones were getting a lot closer than he'd like, stepping onto the metal path to his platform. So he lined up a shot with the rifle and fired. At the sound of their own rifles firing, he quickly ducked back down. A small smile found its way onto his face at the sound of a drone falling to the floor. He could do this.

"You know," his shoulders stiffened. His blood ran cold, and he sucked in a breath involuntarily. His heart skipped a beat at the all too familiar voice that piped up over the ship's intercom. The Voice. "They're going to get to you eventually, pup. Hundreds are headed your way as we speak. You can't kill them all."

"Is that a challenge, Zinya?" He called out to them, repeating the pattern of going out of cover to shoot at the drones. This time, three shots were fired. Two drones joined their deactivated buddy on the floor. Then he hunkered back down into safety.

A chuckle filled the air. He was hoping for surprise at the name. Even a little bit to distract him from the 'omnipotent overlord' act. Something to help remind him that this presumably-Galran wasn't as high and mighty as they felt, so he shouldn't feel like a tiny strung-up puppet at their fingertips. So he shouldn't be so stiff at their voice; so his heart would stop beating so fast.

No such luck.

"Ah, your kind," they said, tone lilted with something akin to affection. "Always so full of bravado. It's charming, really." He could hear more footsteps thundering down his direction. "If not grossly unnecessary." 

His kind? What the hell did they mean by that?

He shot at three more drones. There were still more, getting closer and closer. Probably the only reasons one hadn't gotten to him yet was cause of how narrow the path was and how separated they had to be so they didn't shoot each other.

Three shots fired. Another two fell to the floor. But more were coming. He could hear their footfalls headed toward him. 

He hadn't even taken out 15 of them yet. How could he keep up with hundreds?

The answer to that question came in green metallic claws landing in front of him when he went back down behind cover. In his entire life, he's never been happier to see one of the Lions. Green's mouth opened, showing Lance in his Paladin armor and bayard at the ready.

"Stay down!" He called out to Keith, and opened fire on the drones. Keith did as he was told, listening to the drones fall to the floor one by one.

Green's head moved a bit closer to the platform. There was a noticeable gap between her maw and the edge, but it wasn't as high up as it had been. He'd still have to jump for it. But he could probably make it.

Probably.

Finally, Lance stopped firing and looked to him expectantly. Keith got to his feet and kicked the Galran rifle aside. It skidded across the metal off the edge, plummeting down the depths. He didn't bother listening for impact.

Instead, he ran for Green and Lance as fast as his sore legs would allow him. Which wasn't really that fast, but hopefully it was quick enough. When he got to the edge, he didn't even hesitate.

He just jumped.

He barely made it. The cool metal of the catwalk grazed his hands, offering nothing to the fingers searching desperately for something to grab onto. They barely took hold of the edge. For a moment, he started to panic. Falling to your death was one of the least fun ways to go. He knew from unwanted experience. Usually he'd black out while he was falling, and wake up just before his body hit the ground. On some rare occasions, he'd still be alive to suffer the impact. That was the worst part- feeling your body break against the harsh unforgiving ground.

A warm sensation enveloping one of his hands snapped him back to reality. He looked up to see Lance's bayard clipped to his belt, both hands holding his. He was visibly straining to hold Keith up, a sheen of sweat lining his forehead. But he still smiled when he noticed Keith looking at him. He did have a nice smile. Keith didn't get to see it pointed at him often.

Oh. Lance was trying to help him up. Right.

With Lance pulling him, it was a lot easier to get onto the ship. He didn't have to worry about plummeting to his death if his elbow slipped. Lance had him. All he did was keep his hold on Keith's hand, which probably wasn't necessary once Keith was standing on the catwalk, but he wasn't going to point that out.

He also wasn't gonna complain about Lance putting an arm around him to guide him into Green. The hand on his side was unnecessary, but very appreciated after all that had happened. It made him feel... safe.

As they walked into Green's entrance hall, her mouth closed. He couldn't understand what exactly she was saying, but it was pretty obvious by her thrumming purr that resonated within his chest that she was satisfied with a job well done. He decided to take that as a positive thing.

Lance turned his head to look at him. His expression screamed concern. "Are you okay?" He started looking Keith over, probably for any wounds, but stopped abruptly when his gaze drifted further down. His face flushed and he immediately looked away. "I- uh..." He cleared his throat, gaze fixed on the floor. They stopped by a doorway across from the cockpit. "I'll get you a blanket, or... something. Just wait here."

Keith swallowed around the lump in his throat as Lance removed his hand from his side. "Okay," he said quietly. He leaned against the wall, watching as Lance disappeared into the room. He only remembered Pidge was there when he heard them snicker. "What?"

They shook their head. While he couldn't see most of their face, he knew the hand by their mouth was trying to hide a grin. "Nothing," they said. "It's good to see you, though."

"...Thanks," he shot them a smile they probably couldn't see. Lance emerged from the room a moment later, holding up faded dark green blanket edged with black. He placed it on Keith's shoulders and let Keith place the ends over himself. The fabric was a bit ratty, obviously very old, but not very itchy or uncomfortable overall.

"You decent now?" Pidge asked.

The blanket covered him all the way down to his thighs. His hands held the ends shut in front of him, so there was no way anyone could see anything of his from the neck down. He nodded. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Good," they pressed a couple buttons on Green's console. Two screens showing video feeds of Hunk and Shiro in their own cockpits popped up. "Guys," they motioned one hand towards him to come closer. So he did. He couldn't help but smile at the way both their faces lit up at seeing him. "We got him. Heading out now." Green removed her paws from the platform, their boosters kicking in.

"Keith!" Hunk said excitedly. "Man, it's so good to see you again!"

"You too, big guy." How long had he been gone?

Shiro looked to him with concern. A chill instinctually ran up his spine at actually seeing his face again. He couldn't control it, and he didn't know why Shiro in particular made him uncomfortable. "It's been a while," he said. "You okay?"

Keith nodded and forced his discomfort down. He'd sort out those feelings later. "Yeah, I'm fine." he told Shiro. (You know, like a liar.) "See you guys back at the Castle."

The Castle. The place he always died in during the simulation. The place where he'd been shot up in nearly every hallway, or ejected out of all the airlocks the ship had, or crushed by a Lion in the hangars. A place he has died in too many times to keep track of, in too many ways he didn't want to remember. A place he was gonna have to live in again.

Would anything change once he got there? Or would the cycle begin again, crushing the fragile illusion of hope he barely believed he had. Was this just another elaborate way for the Galra to break him? A lie to crush his spirit? When Shiro spoke to him again, would it be Zinya's voice? Would-

"Keith?" The sensation of a hand pressing the blanket against his shoulder wound snapped him back to reality immediately. The tiny bit of pain made his instincts flare up. They went wild, thoughts poisoned by paranoia flooding his mind in a split second.

_This was it he was gonna die they weren't going to wait to get back to the castle to start the cy--_

He recoiled away from Lance, bumping into Pidge's piloting chair in the process. His chest felt tight. The only thing that carried him out of the developing full-blown panic attack was Lance's stunned look.

The look of the real Lance. The one who helped get him out of the simulation. He had to remind himself of that fact. This was real. This was happening. He was finally safe again after God-knew-how-long.

He didn't fully convince himself that those words were true, but the idea of them helped calm him down.

Lance looked at Keith's covered up injured shoulder with narrowed eyes. They softened a bit in dawning realization when they switched their focus on Keith's face. "You're hurt," he finally spoke after a long moment. "Let me see it."

"Lance," he said. "I-I told you, I'm fine."

"And I'm telling you," Lance didn't skip a beat. He stepped closer to Keith. "That's bullshit. I'm not gonna touch it, I just wanna see how bad the damage is."

Deep down, he knew he should just get it over with and show Lance. He didn't even know why he was so adamant about letting him see his little wound. Both of them had fared worse than a laser's graze. It wouldn't take long to heal up in one of the pods back at the Castle.

But part of him insisted against it. With what he'd said in the simulation, and actually being in the simulation in some creepy Galra ship, he didn't want to worry Lance any more than he already has. Though a small, shameful part secretly basked in the fact that Lance was openly worried about him. No sarcasm, no attempts to pick a fight, just... caring about him openly. He didn't do that often.

But Keith wasn't going to dwell on that. 

Honestly? He just wanted to get to the Castle and try to forget all this ever happened as quickly as possible. The sooner things went back to normal, the better. 

Part of the problem was he half expected to hear the Voice chastise him for hoping that could happen. But he thankfully didn't hear them. For now, at least.

Maybe they just didn't want to talk.

_Stop it._

Keith sighed. "Look," he stepped toward Lance, meeting his gaze without hesitation. He noticed the Blue Paladin faltered ever-so-slightly at the sudden directness. "I appreciate you coming to save me, I really do. And I know it's probably been a while for you guys, but I promise," he took another step towards Lance. He kept his gaze steady, purple eyes like spacedust scattered among the stars in the void meeting blue ones like the depths of the ocean. "I'm fine."

With that, Keith moved past Lance. He walked the short distance to the small room and let the door shut behind him.

The room was obviously very old. A fine layer of dust clung to every bit of furniture, like whoever dusted either didn't have time to do it fully or just didn't care. Maybe both. The 'furniture' only counted as a bare cot attached to the wall with a fluffed up pillow and a chrome-looking coffee table in the corner. Next to the door was an Altean-looking device that stood out from everything else.

Mainly cause it looked shiny and brand new while everything else was dusty and dulled.

It would look exactly like a cryo or healing pod, if either of those things were padded in the back and had a mind-meld headpiece attached to the interior. It didn't really take long to figure out what the machine was for.

He sat down on the cot and just... stared at the machine. It was obviously made to put someone in the simulation to get him, but how? How did they even find out where he was? Maybe however he got captured by the Galra gave them a hint.

If only he could remember how he got captured.

The door slid open with a gentle whirr, revealing Pidge in the doorway. Their arms were crossed, and they raised a brow at him.

His heart involuntarily picked up its pace a little bit. He found his shoulders tensing and forced them to relax. He was safe now. He had to convince himself of that fact, and he has to remember it. No one was gonna try to kill him.

"We almost at the Castle?" Keith decided to break the awkward silence.

"Just landed," they responded. Their look softened a little bit. "I want you to be honest with me." They moved to sit at his side. "Are you... actually hurt? Did you get hit by anything on the ship?"

"I already said-"

"You don't need to put up the tough-guy act, okay?" Pidge interrupted. "I... I know what they did to you in the simulation. Or at least, a little bit of it." They put their hand on Keith's shoulder gingerly. It stung a bit, but not enough to show. "I know it's gonna be hard as hell to get used to everything after all that." Their expression turned serious, eyes unwavering when Keith looked at them. "But no matter what we did to you in there, you need to know we're real. We care about you. And we're here for you, like it or not." They removed their hand from him. "So if you're hurt, please let me know."

Keith let their words roll around in his mind a bit. He wanted desperately to believe them. More than anything else in the universe.

Bu he just... couldn't.

Finally, he let out a sigh. His shoulders deflated, held down by the stress-fest this day has been. He looked at Pidge with a hint of uncertainty. "Can I ask you something first?"

Pidge sat forward a bit. "Go ahead."

"Does..." He tried to find the right way to ask what he wanted to know. "Does anyone else know? What happened in there?"

Does _Lance_ know?

Pidge shook their head, expression somber. "Didn't think you'd want them to." They looked up at him questioningly. "Do you?"

He shook his head.

"Okay." A brief pause. "Can I see it now?"

Part of him wanted to refuse. In the simulation, any weakness would be exploited to hurt him more. They'd make any wounds he suffered bigger, anything that might have actually healed were reopened and torn apart at any opportunity. How was he supposed to know that that wouldn't happen? How was he supposed to know that he wasn't still in the simulation?

He didn't.

Keith let the blanket fall off his injured shoulder just enough to show the burnt skin. The inflammation had died down a little, but the gash would probably look bad to anyone who hadn't seen and/or experienced worse. It was about as long front to back as two of his fingers placed next to each other. It was roughly the same length as his pinky finger from side to side. The gash was dark red now, but it never bled.

He saw Pidge's eyes widen slightly at the sight of it. They started reaching for it.

Keith flinched away from the prying hand, standing up in one fluid motion. His heart and his instincts were going haywire. Run, they told him. Get out of here while you still can. If you even can.

The glimpse he got of Pidge's face before he left stayed in his mind even after he walked out onto Green's catwalk. Her purring was more insistent, and with the way it vibrated throughout him, he knew it was pointed at him. But just as with any of the Lions other than Red, he couldn't understand what exactly she way telling him to do. So he just ignored it and headed out.

Allura and Lance stood by each other, just out of earshot by the hangar doors. He saw the Princess nod slightly at whatever he said, brow creased and lips pursed into a thin line. Her back was mostly to Keith to face the Paladin in front of her. Which made it easy for Lance to see Keith as he stepped off of the catwalk.

He swore he could feel an electric shock run through him when Lance's eyes met his. They quickly moved to the still-exposed burnt skin. By the time Keith realized what he was looking at, it was too late. Lance had already seen it.

Allura turned to look at Keith just as he covered it up. Like Hunk and Shiro, her face lit up immediately. All the visible worry from about .2 seconds ago was gone.

It felt... weird to see everyone's reactions to him. It wasn't like he didn't know the team liked having him around- he was a part of it. But just how their moods had all suddenly shifted at seeing him gave a part of him pause. Logically, it was probably because they missed him. He might have been gone for a while.

But what if that wasn't it?

What if they were all just trying to lull him into a false sense of security? Give him a chance to relax, convince him he wasn't in the simulation anymore, make him feel safe. Then they would strike. He wouldn't put it past the Galra to do that to him. Another way to try and break him.

And then the cycle would keep rolling on and on, seemingly endless.

"-Keith?" He heard Allura ask the tail-end of a question. She was closer now, and directly facing him. Lance was only a bit behind her.

He blinked, bringing his attention back to the present. "Sorry," he said. "Just... spaced out for a sec there. What'd you say?"

"I asked if you needed to go to a healing pod," she told him. "Are you alright? Were you injured on the Galra ship?"

He wanted to say he was fine. It would be easy to lie, to tell her and everyone else that he was okay. The words were on the tip of his tongue. Waiting to be released into the open air.

But then he looked at Lance. Lance looked at him warily, giving him a nonverbal warning.

Lance would know he was lying.

"A Galra bullet got me," the truth slipped out of him easily. He showed the wound to the both of them. "It doesn't hurt that much, though." He covered it back up, shifting slightly at their concerned gazes.

"You sure?" Lance asked. His brows moved a bit closer together. "It looks kinda bad."

Keith nodded. "We've all had worse." If Lance could survive taking the brunt of an explosion before being put in a healing pod for a day, Keith could handle a graze without one.

The two exchanged a look. His heart picked up the pace.

"You're right," he could practically hear one of them saying, a glint in their eye and a smile that would make his stomach drop to his foot. It would probably be Lance. He was in his armor, so he could easily summon his bayard. "And you're about to experience _much_ worse, child" A burst of pain would pierce him easily. It would probably be drawn out, just to make it worse for him. They'd probably let him bleed out on the floor. Then a blessed release from the pain. Darkness. Rinse and repeat. Over and over and over and--

A hand was on his shoulder.

"Keith, are you sure you're-" Allura's crystal blue eyes shone with concern. Any second now, he expected them to shift and change to the malice he didn't want to see. He'd fought Allura before. She was usually to the point about killing him, but maybe this was just to catch him off guard. Part of the plan part of the cycle part of

"Y-yeah," he said. He needed to get out of there. His nerves were going haywire. "I'm just gonna..." What excuse could he come up with to get out of this? He already said he didn't need a healing pod. The goo on him was starting to dry, though. Getting gross and crusty and clinging to his skin. "I'm... just gonna go shower. Get all this crap off me. See you later," he rushed that last part out, moving past the two. "Bye!" He called out at the doorway.

Thankfully, no one was waiting for him in the Castle hangar hallway. He looked back to confirm if anyone was following him.

No one was.

Good. Being alone helped his nerves calm down a little. The familiarity of the Castle helped, too, but knowing he was alone soothed his frazzled nerves most. He didn't know why he was so jumpy for no reason.

Okay, that was a lie. He totally knew why his nerves kept freaking out. Being in the simulation and dying at his friends' hands so many times made his instincts immediately jumpy at seeing them now. It was understandable, but it still kinda pissed him off. They were his friends- hell, the closest thing he's ever had to _family_ \- they didn't deserve this distrust. He knew that. He knew they were just trying to help him.

The sound of footsteps heading in his direction brought his mind back to the present. He hoped it was Hunk or Coran. Those two didn't kill him as often as the others.

His heart dropped to his stomach when he saw who it actually was.

_Shiro._

"Keith," he said with a smile. It wasn't malicious or sadistic at all, just a regular smile. One that should have calmed Keith down a little. (Spoiler alert: _it didn't._ If anything it made him a bit more paranoid.) "How are you holding up?"

Thankfully he hadn't noticed Keith was shaking a bit yet. Thank God for small miracles. "Fine," his voice didn't waver. Another small miracle. "J-just headed for the shower." He tried not to keep his eyes on Shiro's prosthetic arm. He knew its burn all too well by now. It would probably be in his memory forever.

Shiro's look softened. "Alright." A part of Keith appreciated that Shiro's expression wasn't one of pity. It was empathetic. "Well, if you ever want to talk about anything," he was moving his prosthetic hand to touch him _oh god nononononO-_ "I'm always he-"

Keith jerked away the millisecond the metal hand touched him. His heart was roaring like his Lion in his ears. His instincts screamed _run get out of here he's gonna kill you you're gonna die getoutGetOutGETOUT_

When he saw Shiro's face, he noticed it wasn't hurt. He'd brought his hand back and looked between it and Keith. He saw realization dawn in those eyes as he linked the two together.

"What did they _do_ to you?" When Shiro spoke, his words came out in a bewildered whisper.

"I-I," Keith struggled to find the right words. His vision was getting a blurry tint at the edges. His chest felt tight, making it feel harder and harder to breathe properly. "I gotta go." He raced off to the safety of his room as fast as his legs could carry him.

He didn't stop until his bedroom door shut behind him. He locked it.

Keith leaned against the cool metal, letting out a breath of relief. The tension that made his entire body taut left him. He was finally guaranteed to be alone. He didn't have to deal with bumping into anyone else (and probably stuttering like an idiot before leaving with them, too).

His room pretty much looked the same. Then again, there wasn't really much to change about it. He didn't really collect souvenirs like the others would sometimes. If he had a dollar for every time he saw one of the Paladins (usually Pidge) pocket something from an alien planet they were visiting, he would be pretty well-off.

His knife lay out of its sheath, flat and clean on the table's surface. Right where he remembered leaving it before he left for the mission he could barely remember anything about. He remembered leaving his dirty clothes on the edge of his bed. He was going to wash them once he came back. They weren't there anymore.

Instead, everything was clean and folded on the table. A small square note lay on top of the neat pile. Curious, Keith moved off of the door to see what it said. He picked it up between his thumb and forefinger gingerly.

It was about the size of a notecard, but without blue lines on either side. The back of it did have a lot of scribbled-out writing in blue pen. Like the writer wasn't sure what they wanted to say.

The front had simple, slightly sloppy handwriting. 

_Dunno when you'll read this, but I figured you wouldn't want to wash these when you just got home, so..._

_You're welcome._

_-L_

Keith couldn't help the smile that worked its way onto his face. He put the note down, placing it by his knife. Then he picked up his clean clothes, slinging them over his arm, and headed into the bathroom.

He reminded himself to try and thank Lance later.

-

It was all his fault.

They were doing recon on a huge Galra re-supply base on a harsh planet called Ilos. A planet chock full of abominations that looked like they walked right out of your nightmares and highly radioactive dust storms that could kill someone who was unprepared for them in seconds.

Y'know, fun stuff.

The base was sturdily built and heavily guarded at all times. They even had a huge particle barrier surrounding the area around the base. It took anything the Ilosian creatures had to offer without a bit of hesitation.

Which said a lot, considering that some had claws taller than him that could easily cut a Galra soldier to ribbons. So they had to be cautious.

Their job had been to check out the vast tunneling systems that dotted Ilos' mountains. Some were guarded by Galra, so Allura figured they used some of the tunnels as an alternate way to get inside the base.

Two teams of two would head into the tunnels to try and find a way into the base. Once they were inside, they were supposed to find the particle barrier's generator and disable it. The one who didn't go would distract the base with their Lion while the others got to there.

It seemed like a seamless plan.

The two teams consisted of a long range and close range fighter, just in case anything was in the tunnels they were checking out. But they couldn't decide on who was gonna stay behind.

So they figured it out in the least complicated way.

They picked sticks. Two long ones had points on them, signifying they were in a team. The other two had flat ends, showing the same thing. Whoever got the short stick had to stay behind and wait.

Pidge got the short stick. And shocked him with their bayard when he commented on it. (But _come on,_ how couldn't he? It was a joke just waiting to be made. And totally worth it.)

He got a pointed stick. Guess who else did?

If you guessed Keith, you'd be right.

Things in the tunnels started off smoothly. They were creepy as hell, extremely dark, and had a thick stench that assaulted his nose and made him feel like he was inside a sweaty gym sock. But on the optimistic side- for a while nothing was going wrong.

Then the Galra found out where they were. Coran and Allura tried to fend them off, but the base's particle barrier was too strong to break through. The Princess eventually called a retreat through the comms.

He'd looked over at Keith, a small cocky smile growing on his face. "Betcha I can make it back faster, dropout."

The worry on Keith's face had thankfully disappeared then. Replaced by the self-assured smile that always gave Lance a small fluttery feeling in his chest. He dismissed it quickly. "You're on, cargo pilot."

With that, they were off.

Lance had found a shortcut in the tunnels a while before the retreat was called. Keith didn't notice it, so he'd kept in mind for an occasion like this. He didn't stop to think about the possible repercussions of leaving Keith behind on his own.

_Keith'll be fine. He can handle himself._ he'd thought, racing out into the glow of Ilos' green-tinted sun. When he reached the catwalk onto the Castle, he expected to turn around and see Keith not far behind. He couldn't wait to rub it in his perfect Zuko-wannabe face that he'd won.

But when he turned around, he only saw Shiro leaning on Hunk and holding a crimson-stained side heading towards him.

"Where's Keith?" Hunk asked, slowly helping a limping Shiro onto the ship.

"I..." He'd looked out one more time at the landscape, hoping to see him running for the Castle. _Praying_ to see him running for the Castle. Nothing. Just Galra shooting at the ship. His stomach dropped, dread and realization dawning on him."I don't know."

That was a month and a half ago. They'd been looking for Keith since then.

Now, he was finally back.

-

At first, Keith was fine.

The shower definitely helped him feel better. It took a while, but he was able to scrub all the weird drying goo off of him. His hair was the worst part. Crusty and still sticky at the roots. It took forever and half of a brand new bottle of Altean shampoo to get it all out.

His hair would probably smell like weird flowers for weeks, if not months. But now it was finally clean and a bit fluffy. For now, at least.

His clothes smelled like coconut. He didn't really know why they did, but he wasn't really complaining. It was nice to put them on again. Familiar. Comforting.

By the time he got out, it was just after curfew. So he went to bed and tried to get to sleep.

Keyword being 'tried'.

But no matter how hard he pursued it, the release of sleep eluded him. He was too restless to even keep his eyes shut. Every time he did, his mind imagined someone would be standing over his bedside, waiting to kill him when he reopened them. So he'd open them again to check.

Rinse and repeat. A cycle.

As he lay in bed, staring up at the darkened ceiling, murky memories started to resurface. Like he had a dark room inside his head, developing images he wasn't sure he wanted to remember tinted in dark red lighting. It made him restless. He needed something to do to take his mind off of these things.

He couldn't train. He remembered multiple times in the simulation where he died against the Gladiator. Once, Allura made him go through all 10 levels. At the same time.

What if it happened again? What if that was how he was revealed to still be in the simulation? The tension in him started building up again. Any second now, he half expected to hear knocking at his door. His breathing was steadily getting quicker at the thought. His hands shook.

Sure, this all _felt_ real, but how would he know if it wasn't? He wouldn't. The simulation was very realistic. Maybe it just got an upgrade. The whole 'escaping' thing could just be a way of putting him in the more advanced version. The one that was even more realistic, with multiple people instead of just one with him every time.

The part that scared him the most was how that made sense.

It felt like he could hardly breathe. It felt like the walls were slowly but surely closing in on him. Any minute now, they'd crush him like a tiny insignificant bug. He rolled onto his side and curled up, made himself as small as possible.

Logically, he knew he probably wasn't actually gonna be crushed. Logically, he knew the walls weren't actually moving at all.

But he wasn't thinking logically. It felt like millions of ants were scurrying just underneath his skin, leaving a fiery trail in their wake. It already felt like the walls were pressing down on him. His instincts told him _OUTOUTOUT_ with the same fervor as a drunk college kid chanting for their buddy to chug an entire keg.

Finally, he decided to obey.

He shot out of bed and raced to the door. It took him a few tries to get it to unlock, fingers fumbling and hands shaking nonstop. He appreciated the small rush of slightly colder air on his heated skin as it slid open.

His legs had a mind of their own. They took him to the place he subconsciously wanted to go; the trip barely taking a minute.

Lance's shut door.

Before he could overthink it, he knocked at the cold metal. He immediately regretted it. Part of him hoped Lance was wearing his headphones loud enough so he wouldn't hear. Another part hoped he wasn't.

Keith jumped slightly as the door opened, revealing Lance with that weird Altean green skin cream that made his skin look soft on half of his face. His brows shot up at seeing who'd knocked.

"Keith," his voice was soft, a bit groggy. Those blue eyes looked at him with concern. "What're you doin' here?"

Part of him wanted to lie, or say _'nevermind, false alarm have a good night'._

What came out instead was a teary-eyed, shaky, rushed mess.

"Listen," he said, looking at the floor. "I'mfreakingoutrightnowandIdon'tevenknowifthisisrealbutifitiscouldyoupleasejust-" he looked up, rooted to the spot and visibly trembling now. Tears lined the edges of his eyes, threatening to fall at any moment. "Hold me?"

Lance's eyes widened.

_Oh shit ohshit aboRTABORT--_

Arms pulled him in and stayed securely around him. He stopped. It felt like the world stopped for this one second, this one focal point in the blurred mess of his life. The dam that had kept him secure was quickly cracking.

Then it finally broke. Time ticked on.

He threw his arms around Lance, and allowed himself to break down. He allowed his calm facade to crumble into dust at his bare feet.

He'd probably be ashamed of it later, but for right now he was fine with burying his face in Lance's neck and letting his tears flow as freely as a raging tsunami. It felt the same as being caught in one- his body weak and being flung around like a ragdoll in the current.

Lance was the opposite. He was steady and composed, cooing encouragements into Keith's ear. Familiar. Comforting. His hand rubbed light soothing circles into Keith's lower back.

After what felt like hours (but was probably only 5 minutes), the storm cleared. Keith felt his shaky breath getting slower. His heart rate was finally slowing. But he didn't let go of Lance. It was safe in his arms. He was convinced no simulation could replicate this feeling.

_Yes,_ he thought sleepily. _This is real._

Then he drifted off.

Those thoughts were confirmed when he woke up in a bed that wasn't his, holding a still sleeping Lance in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come yell at me on tumblr: squishy--squish  
> comments are appreciated! This chapter took me forever


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